When the tentacles of ignoramy gnaw through the eyes of your jissom monkeys, what's left but the crank of loud screamage from the gob hole you once thought you had? Feel alone? Feel lone? Feel one?

When finding yourself eating arms, anger sprays out tear ducts, knowing creeps over matter to show the arm is yours. Fingernails boldly laugh. When knowing stabbage happens in your food bucket. See on side - It is your hand pushing it down. From your gnashers on the air is written 'bored'. When looking down at the bitch and butch who made your industrial hell, still, bleeding and smelling from rot. Converse, then trance yourself in the effervescent candescence as strobeage makes the view seem conveluted. Were you born or is this just God's momentary lapse?

Another way to say ....
Welcome...
Welcome...
Welcome...
To... Eraserhead